Only Fools
by Remedy for Chaos
Summary: AU, Dallas/Ponyboy: But I can't help falling in love with you. Second chapter was just something cute and quick I threw together.
1. Chapter 1

Only Fools

Author's Note: Like all my work, it has NOT been combed for mechanical or grammatical errors. You'll get over it I'm sure. (; I'm not sure if I am going to continue this or not since there are still some loose ends, but I like to think it leaves room for you as a reader to allow your mind to wander.  
>Warning: Male on Male, alternate universe.<p>

I'll never tell anyone this part; I'm not afraid of how others will judge me since I'm so used to others looking down at me simply because I happened to be born on the "wrong side" of the tracks—and I can hold my own just fine if I ever got jumped, but I'm more afraid of what Dally would do to me. I doubt he'd want anyone to know, especially not my brothers. I don't think they'd purposely hurt Dal, they aren't dumb, and Dally could probably take them both on in a fight, but I wouldn't be worth the trouble over an ultimately _stupid_ night.

I swallowed hard and my chest felt as if someone put a ton of bricks on it. I wanted to cry, I think, but I couldn't find the tears to do it. I could barely understand what Dallas was saying thought I knew whatever it was couldn't have been good. My immediate reaction was to let him do whatever he wanted since there was no way I could even hope to stop him—he was pure muscle. I guess something like a surge of power—or maybe it was just pathetic wave of loneliness—coursed through me and I grabbed his wrist and threw all my weight in the opposite direction, anything to get him to stay I guess. If the floor hadn't been made of linoleum I probably would have dug my heels in too like those little kids do to their moms when they want to stay where they are.

I half expected to get belted by Dallas, especially in his distraught and angry mood, but for some unfathomable reason he didn't. Not that my already beaten face didn't appreciate it, yet that did nothing to make me feel better in that awkward moment. He stopped in his tracks, head now hung in a despair that I could only estimate. I didn't envy him. I may have lost my best friend, but Johnny was the only person Dally ever really loved who had loved—even idolized—him in return. I at least I still had Sodapop. I remember faintly wondering if Dally would ever really feel anything that strong for anyone ever again.

"Just let me go Pony."

His voice was still strange and distant. It made my heart stop for a second before I found my voice and my grip tightened on Dally's wrist. "No. I'm not losing anyone else tonight."

I didn't even know what I meant by that, but Dally did. I could tell by the look on his face when he finally looked back at me. I had seen anger in those elfish features. Anger, hate, even amusement, but never had I seen sadness. My throat felt dry and I took a chance by letting his arm go and daring to step just an inch closer. I probably looked so pathetic, so silly—but I was a scared fourteen year old boy. I will always be that scared fourteen year old boy no matter how old I get. "Don't leave."

For some strange reason he didn't protest. I don't really remember moving, but the next moment that I remember we were out in the hall way, sitting on the floor silently. Nurses walked past us and gave us odd looks (who wouldn't, I probably looked like hell), some walked in and out of Johnny's room and talked so plainly about having to move the body to the morgue. We did our best to ignore it but I couldn't help but listen in. I could tell Dally was listening too by the way his lip twitched every time they said something so blasé about getting Johnny out.

I knew he wasn't there. He was dead and he couldn't care less since whatever made him Johnny was gone, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and even anger. We stayed in that hallway for probably bordering on hours though we didn't leave until I realized that Sodapop and Darry were probably worried sick about me and I badly needed a smoke. I found it hard to break our silence, it was actually kind of nice, but I knew I had to. "You should probably take me home now."

Dally got up to his feet and even helped me up. It was rough, but I took the gesture for what it was. "Yeah, we should tell the rest of the gang about Johnny."

We left. As he drove me home I was in and out and it was hard to distinguish reality and dream; my head was either pounding or devoid of thought that made it almost impossible to concentrate. I heard Dally ask me several times if I was all right, I think I said I was but I still don't know if I said it in my head or not. I must've said it aloud since he didn't turn back towards the hospital. As we pulled up the driveway I unbuckled the seatbelt (I hadn't even realized I buckled myself in) and got out of the car. Dally still had the engine running and that left a bad taste in my mouth.

Halfway out of the car I looked back at the brutish young man and I think I saw for a split second what Johnny always saw in him—the rough, gallant gentleman of the old South. It made my heart leap to my throat. "Come inside with me."

"Go ahead without me."

Devoid of emotion, that was a new one. "No. I don't think I could even get through the door on my own."

Even in the darkness I could see the irritated look on his face. Still he made no move to name call, or harm, or even leave me there. He turned off the engine and exited the car, slamming the door on the way out as if to make a point he could easily break me if he wanted to. Together we headed into the house, me stumbling towards the door and often grabbing onto Dallas for whatever semblance of support I could be given.

Once inside the house I was bombarded and the information being thrown at me was hard to digest. Something about maybe having a concussion (I did), where I was, what had happened. Soda had me in his arms and was jostling me a lot. Dally answered everything for me and I was thankful when Darry pulled Soda off of me and suggested I sit down and drink some water.

Dally and the rest of the gang continued to talk while I sipped water and tried to straighten out my thought processes. I felt kind of bad since Soda was asking me questions and all I could really muster was "yes", "no", and "I don't know". Darry was patching me up a bit, asking if maybe he should take me to the hospital to make sure I wasn't going to die or something. "No, just need sleep."

I had no clue what time it was, but I knew it had to be late. I didn't even bother to say any niceties I would normally try to use before I trudged up the stairs, but I know I did ask Dally to _not_ leave. I said nothing about staying, I know what much.

The morning I woke up I scraped together what I could from the night Johnny died and opened my eyes. I was hot and could barely breathe underneath the blankets, but I wasn't alone. Darry brought the chair from the living room upstairs and he was there asleep next to me on the chair—must've been pretty uncomfortable, but I couldn't help but smile. It started to pull together, slowly. I had clunked out and had been a bit delirious. I remembered asking Sodapop if I was sick, if Darry was sorry I was sick. Guess he really was if he stayed home from work. I sat up and jostled Darry's leg a bit to stir him.

"Ponyboy?"

I smiled a bit wider and ignored the pit in my stomach trying to remind me Johnny was dead (I knew it already; I didn't want to know anymore). "I'm not delirious anymore." It lightened the mood a bit to tell a joke.

Darry scooped me up into a hug and again I couldn't breathe. Either my brother didn't know his own strength or he was real glad to see I wasn't dead. "You've been out for a few days kid!" he didn't have to say anymore, I knew he was going to say "I was so worried." Apart of me was worried too, I think. He continued to blubber on about a concussion from being kicked in the head—Soda being pissed off (I think I would have given anything to witness Soda pissed off)—some other things, and most importantly about Johnny.

"What happened to Dallas?"

At the time I thought it was a stupid question, but I needed to know what had happened to him. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had gone off and gotten himself killed after I went upstairs. He would have deserved it; I made myself think in the event that he _had_. Darry surprised me though as he stopped his blabbing and gave me a look. It wasn't a sad one, or the one he got when he was about to deliver bad news. It was kind of like a vague misunderstanding—like I should have already known the answer.

"He's probably in the living room; he hasn't really left since that night."

I blinked and asked almost asked Darry to repeat himself in case I had come down with madness again. After a second I knew he meant it. "So he never left?"

"I don't get it either, and I'm not about to ask him. He came in here every once in a while to check up on you so that I didn't have to take off work so much. I think losing Johnny's made him lose his head a little."

I couldn't help but agree, but I wasn't about to verbalize it. Instead I wiggled from Darry's arms and frowned. "I'm never going to make up all that school I missed." I felt pretty dumb, and pretty damn foolish, but I continued to talk. "I still need to go to court too, and talk about Bob getting killed and all that." Oh how I wanted to turn back the clock to just before I ran out of the house, "are they going to split us up?" I really needed a smoke.

Gingerly Darry caressed my now-blonde hair, a look of unknowing in his face. "I don't know baby."

I hated being called baby by Darry, but at that moment I didn't mind. He could've called me baby all day long if it'd change anything.

"Do you remember being in the hospital at all?"

Darry obviously knew I was starting to get emotional again—I could even feel the tears stinging my eyes. I shook my head. "I was in the hospital?"

"Yeah, you were asking for me and Soda a lot. Sometimes you asked for mom and dad too but mostly for Soda." The way he said it made my throat feel dry. Like maybe I hadn't asked for Darry at all while I was delirious. I bit my tongue and decided not to ask. "Johnny left you his copy of that book too, _Gone With the Wind_; asked the nurse to give it to you."

I saw it on the nightstand but I refused to acknowledge it, it was unimportant and I didn't want to even finish it—it'd be too damn hard. Pointless even. "Where's Soda at?" I felt bad about immediately asking about Soda when something deeper came into play—I didn't understand why I couldn't talk to Darry about it.

Darry's face fell a little which only made me feel worse. "Sleeping I hope. He's been worrying himself ragged over you. He was shaving this morning and almost slit his throat so I sent him to bed."

I was about to force myself to talk, knowing if I didn't let it out I'd probably die, when Darry's hopes were dashed. Soda flew in through the door, about to dog pile on me if it hadn't been for Darry grabbing and admonishing him—which I was thankful for no doubt—clad in nothing but blue jeans. "Ponyboy you're awake!" he started to jump on the bed and I grinned slightly. Only Sodapop could be so excitable.

We talked more before my mind wandered back to Dallas. I wanted to know why, I had to know why. My brothers left me alone, only coming back to give me something to eat, and I focused on schoolwork. I hoped that somehow I would be able to luck out and catch up, or maybe it was simply because I didn't want to think of any alternative.

Books scattered all around me on the bed and papers flying left and right as I attempted to sift through my work, I must have looked ridiculous. By midafternoon I had somehow managed to tucker myself out, which I had only noticed when I had read the same line in the English textbook the twentieth or so time. I groaned in annoyance and put it down; I wasn't going to get much more out of it.

As I put the book down and leaned against the wall I heard a knock on my door. I sighed again and murmured for whomever it was to come in. The blood ran to my face and I felt dizzy when I noticed it was Dally; my mind went through a flurry of questions, and I wanted to ask him all of them. I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying anything.

"Kid, you're red."

I just nodded to keep from saying something stupid.

He gave me a look that only forced me to blush more. I grabbed a pillow and hid my face in it. I heard him close the door and move closer but I refused to pick my head up. I couldn't understand why I was so damn embarrassed, but it was probably because I asked him to not leave, and he didn't. "Aren't you even going to look at me?"

He sounded angry. I picked my head up a bit and looked him in the eye. They were still blue, and cold, and bitter Resentful. I swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

He looked even more annoyed after I apologized. "What the hell are you apologizing for?"

I tried to think, but I didn't even know why I _had_ apologized It just tumbled out. "I don't know." I whispered honestly.

"Then quit it."

I nodded my head.

"Why'd you ask me to stay?"

I swallowed down the apology that was bubbling in my throat. "I don't know."

"Wasn't like I was going to kill myself." He continued, pacing in front of me like he hadn't heard me.

"You were going to do something _stupid_." I finally hissed. "And get yourself killed because you didn't think of nobody but yourself!" I found myself on my feet, defiantly grabbing Dally's shoulders and getting him to stop his fervent pacing. "I couldn't save Johnny, but I wasn't going to lost anybody else."

I waited to be hit, or cussed or, or something. It never came; we just stared at each other. After a minute Dally snorted and gave me a look. "You're a stupid kid."

"And you're a stupid kid too."

"I could probably kill you."

I thought about it for a second before I shrugged. "You blame me for Johnny's death anyways, so you probably would if Johnny didn't like me as much as he did." It was a rational argument for an irrational man, but I thought it was the truth.

"I don't blame you." Dallas muttered, tearing his gaze away from mine as if he was afraid to be judged by me; like I would stop fearing him if he showed any emotion other than anger. "I sent you to that place. I should have just told you to turn yourselves in, but all I could think about was losing Johnny. Lost him anyways."

I tilted my head to the side, perplexed. "You really loved him didn't you? Why did you stay?"

He looked back at me, brow furrowed as if he had to think about it for a minute. "I wanted to die that night. I was going to do something stupid, but you asked me to stay so I did."

"But _why_? You could have easily just brushed me off and left." I felt woozy from standing for so long so I sat down on the bed, holding my head in my hands.

"Would you prefer I go get tossed into jail or killed?"

I looked up at him, his white-blonde locks falling over his forehead in wisps like it always did and again I saw what Johnny always saw in him. My eyes stung with tears again. "No. Johnny wouldn't want that and I don't want that either."

"You should probably lay down kid, you look awful." His voice was softer than normal and I felt his hands on my shoulders and he pushed me down on the bed a bit forcefully. I didn't bother to protest, I did feel sick. With an acknowledging hum I closed my eyes. I don't even remember falling asleep.

I stirred from my dark limbo to the sound of the radio playing The Rolling Stones so faintly that I had to strain to hear and I also noted that I was warm. Very warm. I forced my eyes to open, the room was dark and the sky grew darker outside but it was enough for me to know it wasn't Sodapop shacked up to me. Not that Soda was ever as big and dangerous as Dallas Winston.

I swallowed hard and did my best to contain my blush as I sat up, a single strong arm still slung across my lap. Dallas was asleep, his breath so shallow and he looked so young, and innocent, and scared. Like a sixteen year old, a _normal_ sixteen year old. I was mesmerized and, stupidly, I reached my hand out and brushed my fingers ever so gently over those elfish features. I again found myself thinking of Dally as more than a no-account hood.

I wanted to kiss him, another boy and I wanted to kiss him.

My thoughts were invaded when that strong arm around my waist was removed and was instead gripped tightly onto my wrist, jerked forcefully away from Dally's face. My heart beat furiously in my chest when Dallas's eyes opened and he no longer looked so innocent. "I'm sorry." I immediately whispered. My voice was so breathless and oddly high pitched that, for a split second, I didn't know it was me that said it.

Dallas acted as though he didn't hear as he got up, my wrist still in his grip—golly did it hurt. "What the hell do you think you're doing kid?"

He sounded like his normal, menacing self. A blush heated up my face to where I thought my skin would melt off my face. "I don't know."

The grip on my arm softened and softened until he just let go. I brought my arm to my chest as a reflex and waited for Dally to hit me. He never did. The radio played a new song after the DJ said some words. I didn't even need to hear what the guy said to know Elvis Presley started to play—knew the song too. It was that love song _Can't Help Falling in Love_ featured in _Blue_ _Hawaii_. Why I thought about that at the time I didn't know.

"You're a real stupid kid."

I was about to protest, or insult him, or something, but the next thing I knew his hand caressed my neck and out lips crushed together in a kiss—a bruising, violent kiss. My first _real_ kiss. I tried to pull away, but Dallas promptly reeled me back in aggressively and deepened the kiss.

I gave up and kissed back, it was what I had wanted to do after all. My eyes closed and I focused on what we were doing, what I was allowing him to do. I was laid back down onto the bed by Dally's guiding hand that travelled lower and lower down my body. In the background I could hear Elvis's suave and low voice sing "Shall I stay, would it be a Sin, if I can't help falling in love with you."

It was almost strange, ironic even. He shoved down my underwear as far as he could—I kicked the off the rest of the way and again focused on the kiss. We pulled away for a breath, our eyes both slid opened and I saw those usually bitter and icy eyes shined. I couldn't tell what that shining was, but I assumed it was lust. I don't think I had ever seen lust or passion before then.

We kissed again, though this time I prompted it. Dally fell in line and his hand started to rub between my thighs. The heat and what we were doing sent sparks of electricity down my spine and stirred a melody of emotions mix within me—a cacophony of desire and curiosity. Again he pulled away and chuckled softly against my ear, it was breathy and almost condescending in a way that sent another bolt of pleasure down my body and straight to my nether regions, which had started to swell.

He said nothing before he kissed on my neck and earlobe, his small animal-like teeth nibbling on my flesh. He removed his hand from my thigh to undo the button of his jeans. Over the music I heard the zipper and it made my stomach lurch—just what had Dally intended?

Part of me was afraid and nervous. Another was curious, prying, thirsting for knowledge. I wanted to know, to see, to feel.

_Take my hand, take my whole life too_

I pushed the song out of my head out of fear. The last thing I needed was to equate this with anything even remotely close to love. He stopped nibbling my ear and pulled away. I whimpered and he just smirked, whispering to me sweet words. I was too lost to really register them, but I knew they were lies. Everything Dally said was a lie. In the event it wasn't, it was only a half-truth.

He grabbed my hips and held me to the bed, his jeans lowered down enough to expose his package. I couldn't help but stare at it, my face heated as he spread my naked legs and nestled between them. He was still whispering sweet lies to me, to calm my nerves.

He positioned his want against my backside and I went rigid, anxiety washing over me once again. For a moment I saw worry flash in his eyes, and then it was gone. He leaned closer, pressing his chest against mine and kissing my forehead and cheeks, one hand moving to instead stroke my hair while the other kept him stable enough to keep from crushing me beneath his weight.

The ministrations kept me occupied long enough as he thrust slowly into me; it hurt so bad and I felt tears well in my eyes. I focused on his breathing, on his hot breath against my skin, on the gentle caresses through my hair. My tears started to fall and he kissed them away with endearment, telling me it would all be okay.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded wordlessly, the tears still falling. He kissed away the tears again and started to whisper gentle words, uncharacteristic of him.

The more he spoke and the further he took me, the meaning of those words dawned on me—they were meant for Johnny. He was speaking to, making love with, Johnny. I was just a body, a mere means. Still it didn't make me feel ill or used. Only pity and love.

I let out a few soft cries as Dallas gave one final push and was into me completely. I swore I saw the brute mouth to me "I'm sorry", but I pushed the thought from my mind. Dally was never sorry. He rocked in and out of me, his pace slow and sweet. I don't know if I said anything, but Dally looked at me, our eyes locked as he took me. It didn't last long and I was first to cum.

It was like all I saw was a flash of white and my body shivered in pleasure. Deep within me, still in my throes, I felt Dally's load release like fire. A small moan escaped my lips and we rode out our orgasms together with heavy breath.

The Presley song we started with had ended, and something else was playing but my mind was too muddled to process it. Dally didn't seem to care. He kissed my lips one last time before he withdrew from my and got up, righting himself as he did.

I watched him with intensity, as if I expected something to happen. He just looked back at me—there was no guilt or shame in those eyes which had once again become bitter and distant. "You look better naked."

My eyes widened and, in a fit of indecency, covered my body with the sheets. He smirked at me, reaching over to the dresser where the radio was and dialed it off. "I'll see you around kid."

And that was the end of it. He left me alone in my room, the sky an inky purple-blue and only a matter of minutes before Sodapop would come in and wish me a good night, to fret over if I wanted anything to eat or drink. It hurt to move but I did anyways to clean up the bed sheet and to dress at least half way decent. While my body busied itself my mind drifted and only came to one solid conclusion—I loved Dallas Winston.

Ponyboy looked down at the mess of papers on his desk—the white college-ruled sheets penned in many different mediums; everything from pencil, to pen, and even marker of different colors. Beside him in a manila folder lay the copy of his theme for his teacher—all of it true to word save some minor details in time. And in particular the part of the story he had in his hand.

It was the part of the story no one would ever know about, nor could the ever know about. Behind him on the dresser the radio played the soft melody of Elvis Presley singing _Can't Help Falling In Love_. He wanted to cry as he listened to it play, his arms folded and his head buried into them, trying to block out the world. He was a stupid kid. So stupid.

_Wise men say only fools rush in_

He fell too hard, too quickly, and for what? Nothing. The man he loved would never see him as anything more than a stupid kid who killed his best friend, the only person _he _had ever loved. Perhaps it was divine retribution. Ponyboy could have done any number of things differently and Johnny would still be alive; Dallas would still be nothing more than a hood…

_Like a river flows surely to the sea, some things are meant to be_

From behind him he heard the door open, but he didn't move from his spot. All he wanted to do was sulk.

"If it isn't the token egghead still shut off from the rest of the world." Ponyboy twitched at Dallas's sly voice, the brutish man now behind him in an almost oppressive way. "What do we have here?"

The boy's eyes widened and he instinctively made a grab for his papers, but Dallas was quicker. "Don't read it Dallas." He pleaded as he made another grab for the papers.

Dally smirked and took a step away, just out of Pony's reach. "I'll read it if I want to."

And he did. Pony sat forward in his seat and sank down, his face felt as if it was on fire and his heart thumped painfully in his chest. He tried to get up, to run, but Dallas placed his hand on the boy's small shoulders and forced him back down on the chair. Multiple times.

The silence seemed to tick by slowly, painfully even. All Ponyboy could think was "please don't kill me, please don't kill me" as he tried once more to get up from his seat, but as with previous attempts Dallas forced him back into the chair. "You'll go when I say you can go."

Pony could only nod and stopped his attempts to run. A few more minutes passed, Dally muttered something about hating the use of both front and back pages, until he finished. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as the brute leaned down, hot breath rolled against his ear. "You'd better not pity me."

"I can't just turn that off Dallas." Ponyboy nearly whimpered as he moved his neck to the side, away from the hot breath on his ear and neck. "Please just leave me alone."

"No." It was simple, but oozed every bit of Dally's usual defiance. He threw the papers back onto the desk and rested his arms loosely around Pony's small frame. "I want to know one thing though; what do you even expect to get out of loving me?"

Tears started to well in his eyes again and tried to fight his way out of Dallas's gripe. The brute did nothing but tighten his hold, a snide laugh escaping his lips. "I'll get it out of you one way or another, but maybe you should just tell me. Spare some of the pain?" As if to emphasis his point he bit the crook of Pony's neck painfully.

Pony yelped but didn't jerk away. "Dallas let me go."

Dally kissed the wound he made, a hum purred in his throat. "Say my name again."

"No."

"Then answer my question."

Of course there would be an ultimatum. Dallas bit his neck again and made him give a second cry. "Someone will hear."

"Then I guess you'll just have to bumble through explaining to whoever walks in why I'm holding you." Dally cooed before he gave Pony's earlobe a nibble. "Or maybe I'll just fuck you right in front of them. Think that'd be more fun."

Ponyboy cursed and attempted to move away again. "I know nothing could ever happen and I know you think love is pointless, just stop."

"Now I don't really want to." Dallas snapped coolly, his hands started to drift ever lower until one hand was on Pony's crotch. "By the tent you're pitching in your pants you don't want me to stop either."

He squeezed the tented fabric and Pony cried. "Dallas stop."

"I'm gonna make you cum first." Dallas smirked as he deftly unbuttoned his victim's pants and slipped in to grab the hard-on in earnest. Pony shook and shifted, but otherwise did or said nothing as the brute started to stroke. It was a slow start that quickly heated up, the friction of Dally's calloused hand both extremely pleasurable and painful. "Say my name again Pony."

Ponyboy bit his lip and shook his head; he knew if he spoke he'd scream it. The disobedience from his little victim did not smooth over well for the brute and he beat on the swollen organ harder and his teeth sunk again into the crook of the boy's neck with every intention to bruise.

A scream spilled from his throat, followed by a short, colorful slew of curses—someone must've heard. "D-Dally—"he was cut short again by another hard bite on his neck and another scream. "Oh God damn it Dallas someone's going to hear!"

"Let them."

"Oh God Dal—!"

Dallas chuckled against Pony's neck, giving the abused flesh a few placid kisses. "Cum for me Ponyboy."

The request sent shivers down Pony's spine and he mumbled something unintelligible to them both. Dallas repeated his request in a lower, huskier voice into Pony's ear and another wave of shivers passed down Pony. A few more short strokes and the energy built up in him by Dallas released with a flash of white light behind his eyes.

Dallas withdrew his hand from Pony and gave his neck another kiss. "I should go."

Ponyboy gave a small whimper and got to his feet—boy did it feel awkward to walk with an oyster in his pants. "You aren't doing this to me again." He turned to face Dallas whose eyes were aglow with the same emotion that Pony could not identify before. It drove him a bit crazy.

"I—you know that nothing could ever really happen with us. You said so yourself."

"I changed my mind."

"Doesn't change anything."

Pony frowned and took a few awkward steps closer to Dallas before he latched onto him in a hug. "It doesn't," he admitted, "but I'm just a stupid kid in love."


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't stop.

Ponyboy Curtis had assumed after Dallas Winston had his fun he would stop; after Dallas Winston learned the dorky little kid was in love with him he would stop and that would have been the end of it. But it didn't stop. And Ponyboy didn't really mind.

"Go to sleep," the voice was gruff and croaky, obviously showing signs of sleep itself; Dally always sounded like that after sex. It always had a way of making Pony feel like he did something right, even though everything about the act was so confusing.

"Don't wanna," Pony moans in return, stretching, yawning, and curling up around his dangerous lover like a kitten. He was just a step away from purring and he knew it. So did Dally. Hard not to learn something like that given how often they slept together. Sometimes not always with sex involved.

"If I take you back home tomorrow morning and you have bags under your eyes your brother'll never let me take you all night again."

Ponyboy grimaces at that, knowing that Darry would indeed never let Dally take him all night again. Hell if Darry knew what they were doing when they were alone—his heart starts to pound painfully against his chest and he hides his face in Dally's chest, trying to steady his suddenly shaking breath.

"Shit. C'mere." Pony doesn't flinch when Dallas practically hoists him up, the brutish young man laying with his back against the bed and resting Pony's smaller frame on top of him, his head directly on Dally's chest so he could hear the steady, rhythmic beat of Dally's heart. Strong arms encircle around his middle, holding him protectively.

The panic sticks under Pony's skin, fear pinning to his mind for a while longer; the whole while Dally dutifully holds him, whispering against Pony's hair to "Breathe, just breathe baby." Pony listens best he can, taking in deep gulps of air and refocusing on the way Dally held him.

"Breathe, baby," Dally repeats, voice hushed before lips pressing against his hair in lazy kisses and calloused fingers stroking the soft skin down the line of his back. "There, that's a good boy."

Slowly the worry leaves, Pony's breath calming and his heart slowing. He nuzzles his cheek against Dallas's chest and whimpers pathetically. "Sorry Dally…"

He sounds pathetic and he knows it. "At least you only use me for sex," he tries to play off his panic attack like it was nothing, forcing a laugh.

In reply all he gets is a grunt and Dally telling him to, "Shut the fuck up."

Ponyboy promptly does, hiding his face again in blond hair and kissing him.

They lay in silence for a long while, a single rough finger continuing to stroke down the line of his back. Pony bites his lower lip, practically chewing on it, before finally blurting out, "I love you."

The hand stills on the small of his back and Ponyboy flinches, trying to shrink himself in case Dally tries to hit him. He never had before, but…

"Ponyboy…" Dally starts to move into a sitting position, holding onto Pony's hips so he couldn't escape, try as he may; he was wiggling against him, his mouth spewing all manners of apologies and begging Dally to forget it and to go back to holding each other, but Dally ignores him. He rests his hand against Pony's lips, giving him a look that immediately makes Ponyboy shut up. "Ponykid, listen… you don't love me."

Ponyboy knits his brows in confusion but waits for Dally to finish whatever he was getting at. As much as he wants to yell and say he did love him, he knew better than to interrupt Dally when he looked like he did.

"I'm awful for you, kid. I tear you open at least twice a week for pity's sake! And I sometimes take you when you really don't want it. I hurt you a lot, I hurt your feelings a lot. Fuck I just gave you a panic attack. You don't love me, I just fucked you once and you got attached. It is fine, but that ain't love. That's just—"

"_Love_." Ponyboy interrupts, finally slapping Dally's hand away and nearly glaring at him. Only nearly. "You're big and scary, and sometimes I worry you'll hit me but you take care of me when I start having panic attacks. You hold me, and kiss me, and make me feel safe! You've never hit me, and when you're hurting me you stop when I tell you." He brings his hands to rest on Dally's chest, looking down between them and blushing. "And I know if I really didn't want it you'd stop, but I always want it. I always want to be connected with you, Dally."

"You ain't going to let up on this are you?"

Ponyboy shakes his head, face tugging into a look of determination. "I love you."

"Are you going to go to sleep?" The boy nods slowly, starting to move off of Dally before he's stopped and forced to look at Dally. "I'm going to take care of you, ok kid? I don't know if I love you or not, but I… really do care for you. A lot. And not even just because of the sex. The sex is just a real good bonus. If Darry ever finds out, gives you grief… I'll protect you, okay? You'll have a place with me."

It wasn't quite the confession of love Ponyboy had hoped for, but after months of sneaking around and sex and panic attacks and Dally holding him while he cried… it was enough to make him smile until his face hurt. And it certainly didn't stop.


End file.
